phantom knights 04 - deceit in delaware (41 page)

I did not know if I was supposed to speak, so I said nothing, only continued to look with polite interest upon the king.

“I understand from Lord Adamsen that you have shown yourself reliable in service.” He looked at me with intent, and I suspected that I was expected to reply.

“I do only my best to be worthy of this high position which your majesty has most graciously bestowed upon me.”

King Frederick smiled and I knew I had answered correctly. “You have done well, Willem. Your father must be most proud of the man you are becoming.”

I said nothing, but I knew that my father was grateful for my position. My father had always wanted better for me than the life of turning soil. He had, in his own way, been the one to make this position possible to me. My father had spent years caring for the ground and producing the best crops in all the land. My father had gained the eye of the king, and when the king came to see his land, my father had brought me forward as an offering to his majesty. The Lord’s favor was upon me, for the king took a liking to me, and his favor had yet to cease.

“The reason that I have summoned you is that Eric has spoken to me. It is his desire that you serve his lady once she arrives in a month. I find that I am agreeable only because my son asks it as a wedding gift. So, beginning at once, you will report to Eric for a list of your duties. That will be all.” The king turned his attention back to the papers spread across the table before him and I rose. After issuing a bow, I turned and marched to the door.

“Willem,” the king called, and I turned on my heel, standing in a perfect line. “Do take some time this day to call upon your father. See Karl for a bushel to present him. A gift from his king on the advancement of his son.”

“Yes, sire. Thank you, your majesty.” Bowing again, I left the chamber, and once the door was shut behind me, I nearly collapsed upon the floor.

Two of my fellow guards were eyeing me curiously so I straightened my shoulders and marched past them, heading for the kitchens.

After telling Karl of the king’s order, I had a bushel of vegetables, bread, and a small, freshly killed quail to deliver to my father. Hitching a ride on a pony cart, I made the hour journey to my father’s home; my home.

The land of Lutania was not as large as our neighbors of Denmark and Sweden, but what we possessed, we made thrive. The land was green and lush, producing much for his majesty’s stores. Those who were not tending the land, were shepherds, forgers, militia, servants of the church, or worked in the palace.

When my father’s cottage came into view, I felt a tightening in my chest that I could not understand. Nor did I want to. Sentimentality was for children and women. What I was feeling had to be indigestion from the bumping of the cart.

When I hopped down from the cart, and pulled the bushel from the wagon, the door to the thatched roof cottage opened and a young girl stood there. She looked to be about sixteen and was pleasant to the eye. For a moment, I allowed my eyes to roam over her, before my gaze rested on her face, and I recognized her.

“Marta, is it you?”

“Willem?” she gawked, open-mouthed.

Setting the bushel beside the door, I stood at my tallest, allowing her to look her fill at the man I had become.

Marta was the daughter of the farmer Klaus on the neighboring piece of land. She and I had played together as children, for she was only three years my junior. She was winsome with her dark hair and eyes, and a figure that spoke of a woman, and not a child.

“Where is my father?”

She motioned beyond me, out to the field that was full of workers. I knew my father even without being able to see his face. Turning back to Marta, I gave her my best smile.

“Have you united yourself and have a passel of children about?” I looked around as if searching for the brats.

“Nay, nor have you from what I hear.” She leaned her lithe body against the frame of the door. I leaned my hand just above her face, and pressed in closer. It was truth that I did not fancy the union of marriage, but I did not mind a dalliance here or there. Nothing that would produce an unwanted event, but a light flirtation.

“Why do you not bring your bushel inside while I fetch you some water,” Marta said, and proceeded me into the house, running her fingers down my arm as she turned.

I watched her saunter toward the well for a moment before laughing and carrying the bushel into the cottage.

It was still as it had been when I left fifteen years ago. A dirt floor, a single cot in the corner, a small fire pit, a table with an uneven leg, two chairs around the table, and a chair set before the fire with a low stool where I used to sit after a long day in the fields. I would sit at my father’s feet and listen intently as he would tell me stories.

Setting the bushel on the ground, for I did not trust the table not to topple over, I set to plucking and cleaning the quail. When Marta returned with the water, my hands were covered in quail, but that did not bother, or halt, her. She held the ladle to my mouth so I could drink my fill. Once she lowered the ladle, she replaced it with her lips.

I allowed her to kiss me for a moment, but when she made to sit on my lap, I gently pushed her away. She began to scowl, but I smiled at her.

“Would you bring me those potatoes? I thought I would make a stew.”

Marta, after placing a pout on her large lips, set to aiding me. When my father came in from the field, the stew was cooking over the fire.

“Willem?” My father looked me over, and then moved toward me to embrace me, but I held out my hand, unaccustomed to such intimacies. I did not allow anyone to take liberties with me that I did not initiate.

“I should be off home,” Marta announced, and my father turned to her, thanking her for coming. She kissed his cheek before placing a worn cloak over her shoulders. “I give you good evening.” She went out quickly, and my father turned to look at me again. “This is a grand treat, my son. Tell me, what brings you here?”

He did not remember that it was the day of my birth, not that I would expect him to. I would not remember if Eric did not insist upon reminding me.

“The king sent me, sir. With a gift for you.” I showed him the bushel, and when the stew was finished cooking, I dipped some up for us in the two bowls that he possessed. There was only one spoon, so I gave it to him, but he pushed it toward me.

“You are my guest.” He set to sipping the stew. “Good,” he said with a smile that revealed his missing teeth. I believed that there were more missing than the last time we had been together, but I said nothing. Cleanliness was not respected the same here in the fields as it was in the palace. His majesty’s guards were expected to live by the rule that cleanliness was next to godliness.

“What have I done to deserve such a grand gesture from the king?” my father asked between slurps.

“His highness, Prince Eric, is to be married.”

“That is a good thing, as he is getting on in years. One and twenty now is he not?”

“Yes. Prince Eric requested that I be made a guard for the new princess. The king granted this request, and I begin my new position on the morrow.”

My father set his bowl on the table, his eyes misty. “My son. My boy, a guard to their majesties. I never looked for this honor, but the Lord has sought to grant favor upon us. For that, may an increase a thousand fold be placed upon his majesty’s house.”

“I will do my utmost to be worthy of the position, Fader. One which would not be if not for you.”

My father wiped his eyes on his one coat that was threadbare, and then blew his nose on a dirty handkerchief.

When our meal was through and I had washed the bowls, I had my father give me his coat. He tried to have me sit in his chair by the fire, but I refused, taking the low stool and claiming that I needed the light from the fire. The truth was that as much as I told myself that I loathed sentimentality, I secretly yearned for the days when I could sit at my father’s feet and hear his stories.

As if he could sense my inner feelings, while I set to patching the holes in his coat he began telling me stories of his dealings with his neighbors.

It was a time that I would cherish in my heart and mind forever, for it was to be our last.

CHAPTER 3

The celebrations that would accompany the arrival of our future queen were vast. Our queen, Eric’s mother, ordered the whole of the palace to be cleaned, as well as all of the gardens to be tended. She had the wing of compartments dedicated to Eric’s future wife to be refurnished, and I was called upon to meet with both Eric and his mother on many occasions. It was my duty to know all of the vulnerable points in the compartments, as well as in the whole of the palace where she might wander. It was said that she was bringing four ladies in waiting, thirty personal servants, her parents, eight siblings, and her maternal grandparents. Thus the dedication of a wing to milady’s comfort. Once the wedding was through, her family would depart, as would her ladies in waiting and servants. She was to choose new servants and attendants from those of Lutania, as custom demanded.

Under my command, Eric and the captain of the palace guards had assigned twenty men to serve with me to guard the future princess and her wing of the palace. When I met with them, I was pleased to see that Eric had taken into consideration my suggestions on who would best serve his lady. Over half of the men were great fellows whom I had served with since the beginning of my time in the military. Five of the men were persons who I could have done without, for they were not known among the men to be the most reliable, but the king and Eric did not know of their reputations. Since going to the captain of the guards to request new guards was unthinkable, for it was my first commission, I found ways to keep them occupied. I assigned them to the ground floor doors, which was where her servants were to be housed. They were never to stray above stairs, and they were never, ever to address milady, her family, and her personal attendants.

The men that I knew I could trust were assigned on the first floor where her private compartments were to be found. I was given a chamber for my personal use at the end of the first floor, should milady or her ladies require my assistance.

On the first of October, the day of arrival came, and the palace was abuzz with excitement. All of the maids were eager to see the lady who would one day be queen. My guards were more interested in catching sight of her personal attendants, for ladies in waiting were usually the most beautiful attendants to be found.

The captain of the palace guards had informed me a week ago that I would be riding beside him in the procession to greet the future princess and her family. It was the greatest honor accorded to a military man, and I wished that my father could have been there to see me. As we stood at attention as the royal family descended the palace steps to go to their carriage, my pride was great. Though our country was small, it was mighty, in its people, and in its leaders. The king and queen, dressed in their stately best and long flowing capes, walked regally toward their golden carriage, followed by Eric who was dressed in his regimental attire. Eric had been a commander in the militia during our last battle against those who thought to gain us for their king. They underestimated the size of our militia. Every able man from the age of fifteen and older were in the militia. We were able to protect our borders, with the aid of our nearest allies.

Eric halted beside me as his parents were helped into the carriage. “I believe that I will ride.”

“Yes, your highness,” I responded at once, knowing what was expected. I knew my friend so well that I had expected this to happen, and had his horse saddled prior to the lining of the guards.

Turning to motion to one of the stable lads that I had in waiting, he led Eric’s black stallion forward.

Eric grinned at me, but he said nothing else. He was helped to mount and took up his position behind his parents’ carriage. The captain of the palace guards and I mounted our own horses and rode behind Eric. There were fifty guards in the processional, either riding or marching.

We rode to the coast, and through all of the excitement one did not notice the cool air. When we were in sight of the water, I was rather surprised to see not just a few ships, but a fleet accompanying our future princess.

Torches had been lit from the harbor, where it was aglow with welcoming light, all the way back to the palace. The people had turned out in throngs to catch a glimpse of the future princess, lining the road from the water to the palace. The guards lined up as we had practiced last week, and the captain of the guards and I dismounted to stand behind the king, queen, and prince.

Eric had been disappointed that his brother Luther had not come home from Denmark for the arrival, but he wrote that he could not take time away from his studies. Eric confided in me, as he always did, that he had received word from his contacts in Denmark that studies were the last of Luther’s happenings.

Even if Luther found himself too occupied, I was grateful to be included in the royal welcome.

A large group of guards were the first to disembark from the ships, lining the wharf across from our guards. It was two divided lines that were about to merge and become one. A couple around the same ages as the king and queen disembarked first, followed by an older couple. They bowed low before the king and queen, and I was close enough to hear the greeting. They were Lady Elisabeth’s parents and grandparents.

There was a slight stirring when a young woman appeared at the top of the gangplank. She was covered in capes of the darkest blues lined with fur; she wore a fur muff over her hands, and a high poke bonnet with matching blue ribbons. When she descended, four maidens followed her, carrying the hem of her cape to keep it from falling off the sides of the gangplank.

When she approached the king and queen, she curtseyed with expert grace and poise, with her eyes lowered to the ground. Her maidens all did the same, and they remained down until their lady rose. When she did, I saw her eyes and was momentarily taken aback. Her eyes were purple.